


Aftermath

by TriggerHappyChocobo



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, Pitioss Ruins, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Recovery, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-03-31 08:06:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13970844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TriggerHappyChocobo/pseuds/TriggerHappyChocobo
Summary: Noctis escapes from Pitioss ruins, deeply traumatised by the horrific ordeal he suffered at the hands of the creature that lives inside. He's haunted by visions of the monster and unsure of what's real and what isn't, and his companions are at a loss for how to help him.Direct continuation of Abyssus by FloatingCow!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FloatingCow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FloatingCow/gifts).



> THIS IS A DIRECT CONTINUATION FROM THIS FIC BY FLOATINGCOW - https://archiveofourown.org/works/12566080 - Please go read it first, it's really really really good ~ 
> 
> After a bunch of rewrites, a lot of pondering, and ALMOST being left in development hell, this fic is finally seeing the light of day ~ It's still a WIP; some chapters are finished, some are (ironically) an amalgamation of half-written snippets. But I'm gonna post chapter one now because I needed that satisfaction of posting something, y'know? 
> 
> But anyways~ thanks to @FloatingCow for letting me write this! I absolutely love your fic and I hope I can do it justice :3 
> 
> And thanks to @elpsycongruent for throwing ideas around with me! <3

Noctis threw his head back and _screamed_.

He scrabbled away from the sinister gleam on the table beside him, falling to the ground with an inelegant thud. The loud sound alerted his friends, and within seconds Ignis was by his side, closely followed by Gladio and Prompto.

“W-what's wrong with him?” Prompto stuttered, hovering awkwardly behind Ignis, who had crouched down to Noctis’ level and was attempting to calm him down.

“Hell if I know,” Gladio replied, “looks like he’s seen a ghost.”

It was true – Noctis had suddenly gone very pale, and his face was etched with raw terror. He may have physically been safe, but his mind was replaying the times he'd been running, heart pounding, from the grotesque creature that was rapidly closing the gap between them.

_He backed into an alcove, nowhere to flee, while he whispered quiet, frantic prayers to whichever Astrals would listen. He’d been there for days, being cruelly toyed with by a creature hell-bent on tormenting him._

_Yet another loud scream tore through the air, and Noctis was vaguely aware it was coming from him. With one hand he covered his mouth, attempting to stifle any cries that would give his location away. The other was gripping his right arm for dear life, as though the pressure would dull the sharp pain suddenly coursing through it._

_"Noctis~" he heard the monster sing, high pitched and childlike, yet with an undeniable undertone of malice._

_He could see it, it’s centipede-like body composed of hundreds of mangled limbs splayed in every which direction, and many different disfigured faces – eyeless, save for one. And those eyes, full of despair and dread, surveyed the area carefully for any signs of its victim's location. It was breathing heavily, air whistling through sharp, jagged teeth that were displayed at the front of the creature in a broad, Cheshire cat grin. From where he was, Noctis caught scent of its breath, the foul stench of half-rotten flesh and old, metallic blood assaulting his senses._

_He gagged, retching violently despite his silent pleas to himself to stop making a noise. The monster halted, cocking its head as it slowly turned towards the sound._

_"Noctis!~" It called again, scuffling towards him, hands greedily outstretched like a starving beggar. "Noctis~ NoctisNoctisNoctis~"_

_He had nowhere to run. With nothing left he could do, he scrunched his eyes shut and curled tightly in on himself, repeating the words ‘help me’ over and over and over again._

_He didn’t want to die here._

_He felt a hand on his shoulder and desperately tried to pull away, but it’s hold stayed firm. "Noctis! Noctis, please" it pleaded, in a voice tinted with something vaguely familiar. It almost sounded like Ignis._

Ignis took hold of Noctis, forcefully unfurling his fingers from the death grip he had on his own right arm. He tried to struggle, frantic pleas falling on deaf ears as Ignis held his arms down, worriedly eyeing up the self-inflicted indentations that would more than likely bruise.

“Gladio, please help me hold him.” Ignis said, and Gladio knelt behind Noctis and locked his arms behind his back.

“Prompto,” he continued, “fetch him some smelling salts. There should be some in the boot of the Regalia.” He grabbed the keys from his pocket and threw them over. “I don’t know that they’ll be effective, but it’s worth a try.”

Prompto nodded, dashing out of their room in the Leville and making his way to the car.

Ignis returned his attention to the young Prince; he looked more like a startled animal that a person of Royalty. “Help me.” He cried, borderline hysterical, thrashing against Gladio’s hold as he repeated the words like a mantra.

“Noctis, listen to me.” Ignis said, cupping Noctis' face in his hands and lifting his head until their eyes met. “You are safe from harm, I promise.”

But Noctis was too far gone, too caught up in his own mind to let anything be of comfort. He shook his head out of Ignis' hands and his wide, startled eyes darted round to look anywhere but Ignis' gaze. To Noctis, still wild with delirium, those eyes weren’t those of his close friend. They were a bottomless abyss, dark and hellish, and his words were to lull him into a false sense of security before dragging him deeper into endless torment.

“I don’t know how much longer I can hold him down.” Gladio grunted, taking an elbow to the gut as Noctis tried to squirm out of his grip. “He’s throwing all his strength into this.”

As if on cue, Prompto burst into the room carrying three phials of smelling salts. "I grabbed ‘em all” He panted, holding them out to Ignis while he caught his breath. “Figured more was better, right?” 

Ignis nodded, thanking him and taking the phials. He cracked one open, the strong, medicinal scent leaking out instantly.

They waited a few seconds, watching Noctis with anticipation, but it did nothing to soothe him. Ignis opened the second, wrinkling his nose at the overpowering smell flooding the air. He moved them closer to Noctis, but they still granted him no reprieve. Frustrated, he set them down on the floor, not even bothering to try the last one.

“It seems these are only effective against immediate status ailments, and whatever has startled him is evidently very deep-rooted.” Ignis sighed, reluctantly saying, “I know its unpleasant, but I believe our only option is to hold him down until he tires himself out.”

Prompto and Gladio shared uncertain glances, but Ignis was right – there was nothing else they could do. Gladio readjusted his hold, while Ignis and Prompto each held down a leg.

“We’ve got to stop him screaming or someone’s gonna call the cops.” Gladio said, wincing as Noctis' cries for help became louder. “Should we, I dunno, gag him or something?”

“Yes Gladio, because the police wouldn’t find that suspicious at all.” Ignis quipped, a little too harsh. He apologized immediately, the situation evidently getting to him - to all of them - and added “Though perhaps you may be right.”

“Iggy, take his other leg.” Prompto said, letting go and untying the bandanna from his upper arm. He tied the thin piece of cloth over Noctis’ mouth, voice filled with remorse as he whispered “Sorry, buddy.”

Noctis thrashed harder, the sudden restrictive pressure against his mouth riling him up even more. In his mind, he was being pinned down by the monster, suffocated by the tar-coloured sludge oozing from the cracks in its body. It was trickling down his throat, clogging his airways and altering his perception, just like before.

It was useless trying to fight the monster. It had him trapped, helpless. It had won.

Noctis stopped struggling, all fight leaving his body as he went limp. They still held him tight, cautious of the sudden change in behaviour, but it soon became evident that Noctis had given up. Carefully, they let him go, untying the makeshift gag and hovering close in case he tried to hurt himself again.

Instead, he curled into the foetal position, hiccupping on defeated sobs in between quiet, broken muttering.

Ignis sat down beside Noctis, gently pulling his head into his lap and running delicate, careful fingers through his hair. He subconsciously leaned into the touch, closing his eyes, allowing himself to feel just a tiny bit of comfort in what he believed were his last moments.

Ignis looked up to his companions. “I fear it’s going to be a long evening.” he said, and he was right.


	2. Chapter 2

When Noctis woke up the next morning, he fully expected to see dank, slimy stone walls, to smell stale air crackling with ancient magic, and was pleasantly surprised when instead he saw bright, early morning sunlight shining through the cracks in the hotel curtains.

He sat up, sleepily rubbing his eyes, and glanced around the room. The others were still asleep; Ignis sitting upright in the armchair, Prompto curled up on the other bed, and Gladio sprawled unceremoniously across a sofa, snoring louder than a behemoth.

He was relieved that he was the only one awake; last night had been... Strange, to say the least, and he needed a while to himself to compose his thoughts. Quietly, he slunk into the bathroom, and glanced at himself in the small mirror above the sink.

He looked awful. His lips were cracked and his eyes were bloodshot, dark circles highlighting the striking red veins branching across his sclera. The lack of sunlight inside the dungeon had really done a number on his complexion, leaving his appearance pasty and haggard.

He ran the cold tap and put his hands underneath the cool stream of water, dissociating as he watched the way it ran off his fingertips. He stayed like that for some time, until he was suddenly hit with the realisation that he hadn’t had anything to drink for _days_.

Reality came flooding back all at once, and he became acutely aware of how thirsty he was, mouth dry and a dull headache pounding behind his eyes. But all things considered, he wasn’t anywhere near as dehydrated as he should be with the amount of time he’d been without water. He briefly wondered if the constant ’resetting’ had anything to do with it, and then dispelled the thought with a shake of his head – he didn’t want to think about that _godawful_ place anymore.

He cupped his hands and filled them with water, and brought them to his mouth. It was refreshing, but it wasn’t enough, so he put his face beneath the tap and drank, letting it spill down his chin and onto his shirt.

When he’d drunk his fill, he splashed water over his face in attempt to feel at least a little more human. He grabbed the hand towel and patted himself dry, then padded out of the bathroom and headed straight back to bed.

“Morning, Noct.”

He stopped before he reached the bed and turned around to see Ignis, standing at the small kitchenette, making himself some coffee.

“Would you like a cup?”

Noctis didn’t reply, offering only a curt shake of his head. He didn’t feel like talking, and he definitely wasn’t thirsty anymore.

“Very well.” Ignis said, and attempted some idle small talk. He commented on the weather and the appalling quality of the hotel's instant coffee, but it soon became evident that Noctis wasn’t up for conversation so he gave up. The room went quiet again, save for the boiling kettle and Gladio's snores, which had somehow gotten even louder over the course of the morning.

Ignis finished pouring his drink and sat on the vacant sofa, gesturing for Noctis to join him. He complied, sitting as far away from Ignis as he could and facing away, pretending not to notice the analytical way Ignis watched him. It made him feel uncomfortable - vulnerable, even – and he couldn’t help but feel a slight twinge of embarrassment.

“May I?” said Ignis eventually, setting his mug down on the coffee table and pulling a potion from the armiger.

Confused, Noctis followed Ignis’ line of sight to his right arm. It was mottled with dark purple bruises, and deep scratches ran along his forearm.

“Do you remember what happened last night?” Ignis asked, and Noctis said nothing. He remembered shouting and hurting and panicking, and his friends being there throughout. But he also remembered being alone, trapped with a creature who wanted to see him suffer. It was confusing, and Noctis wasn’t sure which memory was correct.

“You wouldn’t let me heal you” Ignis continued, “Whenever I tried, you would push me away.”

“It... Hurt...” Noctis stammered – it was the first thing he'd said that day, and it came out meek and gravelly.

“Yes I should imagine it did. Your throat can’t feel much better, you must have strained your voice.” He spoke with sympathy, and asked Noctis once more if he could use the curative.

“Uhh... Yeah, sure. Thanks.”

Ignis cracked the potion over his arm, and a green hue flickered around Noctis as the wounds slowly faded away. The way he initially flinched at the contact didn’t go unnoticed, but Ignis didn’t mention it.

“How about some breakfast?” he asked instead, and Noctis' stomach rumbled audibly at the thought. With a light smirk, Ignis headed back to the kitchenette and began to prepare a morning meal for everyone.

 

* * *

 

Prompto was next to rise, soon followed by Gladio, both men awoken by the glorious smell of garula bacon and chickatrice eggs. They each said an awkward good morning to Noctis, but they got little more than a grunt in reply, so Gladio decided to leave him alone. Prompto, however, tried to engage Noctis in a quick game of Kings Knight, in hope that a little bit of normality would ease some of the tension radiating from him.

It worked, at first. He still wouldn’t talk, but he participated in a raid alongside Prompto, and even smiled a few times when they got some sweet item drops. But then, the final boss appeared – a large, insect-like creature that resembled a hundlegs, but it’s face was uncannily human, and it’s pincers were replaced with a large, toothy grin. He startled, making a muffled sound that wasn’t quite a shout due to his sore throat, and shut the game down immediately.

“Awww, what’s the big idea? We were doing so goo-“ Prompto stopped when he saw the haunted look on Noctis' face; it was the same look he’d seen countless times the night before.

“Ignis!” Prompto called, beckoning him over before Noctis could spiral again. “A little help here?”

Both Ignis and Gladio came over, prepared for a continuation of yesterday, but nothing happened. Noctis just looked down at his feet, breathing slightly shallower than usual. 

“What happened?” Gladio asked, and Prompto shrugged.

“I dunno? We were just playing Kings Knight, and then he did this!”

“He seems stable for now.” Ignis noted, going back to his cooking. “Breakfast will be ready shortly, please keep an eye on him until then.”

They watched him like a hawk, but thankfully nothing changed, and before long Ignis was passing them all their food.

“Here you go.” He said gently, setting a plate upon Noctis' lap.

Noctis eyed up the dish, picking up the cutlery and prodding at the food suspiciously, then looked towards his friends, uncertain, almost as if he was unsure what to do with it.

“Please, eat.” Ignis affirmed, and Noctis tentatively picked up a rasher of bacon. He took a small, testing bite, and found that it tasted good. Better than good. It may just have been his hunger talking, but he couldn’t remember ever eating garula that tasted so delicious. He took another bite, and another, and suddenly he was eating as though he’d never seen food before. Cutlery disregarded, he picked it up with his fingers, greedily scoffing his breakfast without even allowing himself time to taste it.

“Hey, slow down. No-one's gonna take it.” Gladio said, reaching out towards Noctis. He jerked away, gasping, knocking the plate to the floor with a loud clatter. The sound spooked him and he jumped up, clumsily flailing back into the bathroom and locking the door behind him, stumbling over his feet as he ran.

Ignis shot Gladio a sarcastic 'well done' look and went to the bathroom door.

“Noctis.” He said, knocking lightly, “Please open up.”

From inside, Noctis shook his head, covering his ears with his hands. The monster was outside, calling to him using Ignis' voice to make him open the door, let it in, let it _eat_ him.

He backed into the shower cubicle, making himself as small as possible. His arm hurt, shooting pain suddenly radiating along it, and yet again he was clawing his just-healed forearm until it was red raw.

“Noctis it’s okay! You’re okay!” Ignis reassured, but to no avail. He could hear whimpers from within and rattled the door slightly, “Please, let us help you.”

But Noctis stayed put, paralyzed with fear, hoping more than anything that the door would be enough to keep the monster away from him.

 

* * *

 

They got him out, in the end. As a last resort, Gladio had to kick the door down, and the three piled in to find Noctis hyperventilating on the ground, fingernails specked with blood.

The days passed strangely after that. There were good days and bad days, but none were perfect, not anymore. Noctis barely spoke, and never instigated conversation. He was skittish; loud sounds sent him flying into panic, and he would flinch at the slightest touch. Most of the time he sat, expressionless, staring into space. Occasionally he’d double take, eyes wide as though he’d seen something very alarming. Whenever he was asked about it, he’d instantly shut off and stay unresponsive for hours. Sleep eluded him – the infamous sleepyhead prince was no longer able to drift off anytime he pleased. He’d lie awake at night, neck deep in traumatic memories that he refused to share with anyone.

“There’s something we need to discuss.” Ignis said one day, addressing Gladio and Prompto. Noctis was present too, but only in body – his mind, as usual, was elsewhere.

“I know Noct's in no fit shape to go anywhere, but we need to continue our search for the royal tombs. You cannot deny the urgency of our objective, and we’ve already lost far too much time over the past few weeks.”

Gladio spluttered on a dry chuckle. “The kid won’t even go out onto the balcony. How in Bahamut's name are you planning on getting him to do that?"

“I... Don’t know.” Ignis admitted “I’m merely pointing out that it’s something we need to be thinking about.”

“I have an idea.” Prompto chimed in, “Why don’t two of us go ahead and find the next one? Someone can stay with Noct and bring him along once we know the way.”

Ignis paused for a second. “That may just work. The safest route can be secured ahead of Noct’s arrival, meaning all he has to do is collect the Royal weapon.”

Gladio clapped Prompto on the back with a smile, and the three began forming their plan of action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know where all this extra furniture in the Leville came from ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Thanks for reading <3


	3. Chapter 3

In theory, the plan was simple; find the tomb, lead Noctis there, leave. They had heard rumours from the locals of a place hidden behind a nearby waterfall, said to house a shrine for a king long passed, and decided that was a good place to begin their search.

In practice, however, it would not be that easy.

“Who’s gonna stay with Noct?” Prompto asked, hoping they wouldn’t allocate him. He would do anything for his Prince and best friend, but having to quell one of Noctis' panic attacks without anyone around to help wasn’t a job he felt confident in doing.

“I shall-  
“I’m gonna-“

Ignis and Gladio halted, looking to one another as they cut each other’s sentences off.

“It should be myself who stays with him.” Ignis stated. “Noctis currently requires a sensitive approach.”

“I’m his _shield_ ,” Gladio raised his voice, offended. “This kind of thing is my _duty_!”

Noctis flinched at the sudden shout, ducking his head and lowering his gaze.

“Precisely my point.” Ignis said, smugly, “Protecting Noctis is a duty we all share, and right now I am the one best handled to deal with his unpredictable behaviour. And besides,” he smirked, “your brawn is far more suited to the battlefield, don’t you think?”

Prompto stifled a laugh as Gladio huffed indignantly, biting his tongue against any comebacks that would only prove Ignis' point further. He reluctantly agreed, crossing his arms and glowering, making sure Ignis knew he was unhappy with the arrangement.

“Excellent, then it’s decided.”

 

* * *

 

 

It was on day three of searching that Ignis got the call from Gladio, saying they had found the ancient shrine. In this time, he had managed to get Noctis out of the room twice; a trip to the market and a walk to the Regalia. He barely responded to anything while they were outside, but Ignis considered that progress. No reactions were better that negative reactions, after all.

The others had told him to bring Noctis and meet them by the waterfall. They’d mapped out a shortcut and cleared the way of daemons, and should all go to plan, they would be able to reach their destination in about 10 minutes from the cavern's entrance.

“How’s he been?” Gladio asked when the two pairs reunited.

“Apathetic, mostly.” Ignis said, watching closely for any telltale signs of another meltdown as the four entered the dingy caves.

Noctis kept his eyes firmly fixed to the floor, his stance closed off, his body language reserved. He held onto Ignis' sleeve like a shy young child, walking alongside him in a world of his own. At least that world seemed to be peaceful, because Noctis was surprisingly calm about his current surroundings. The group pressed on, down some narrow pathways until they reached a larger clearing.

“It should be just along he-“ Prompto was cut off when a long, scaly black tail shot out of the darkness and tripped him up. His face hit the dirt, and he quickly turned himself over to see what had sent him flying.

“O-Oh crap...” he muttered, as he was brought face-to-face with a huge Naga, it’s putrid breath hot against Prompto's cheek. It roared, an almighty sound that caused all four men to cover their ears, and then coiled itself around Prompto’s body, dragging him kicking and screaming into the centre of the cavern.

Gladio chased after it, drawing his weapon as he ran. He took a swing at the beast's head, careful not to hit its tail-end which was keeping a relentless hold on poor Prompto.

“Ignis!” he called, turning round to ask for backup. But the question died on his lips when he saw the change in Noctis’ demeanour, and heard the soft but urgent words spilling from Ignis' mouth.

The Naga used this unguarded moment to ram its head into Gladio’s back, sending him flying into the wall. It slithered towards Ignis and Noctis, slow and menacing, and something within Noctis snapped. He pushed Ignis aside and, rather than becoming panicked and withdrawn, he was hit with a sudden rush of adrenaline. Determined not to get eaten, not to have his entire being consumed and trapped and tortured forever, he called his engine blade to hand and leapt into battle, hacking and slashing at the daemon and Prompto alike, his frenzied mindset making it impossible to tell friend from foe.

Prompto tried to tell him to stop, but all he could manage were winded grunts from the restrictive force of the beast. He received several hits along both of his legs before Gladio joined the fight again, standing between Noctis and his target, raising his shield to deflect the attacks.

“That’s enough!” Gladio shouted, staggering as he bore the brunt of each blow.

Ignis ran back into the fray, telling Gladio to keep Noctis distracted while he freed Prompto.

“Don’t fight back!” Ignis said, and Gladio scoffed – as if he was going to attack his charge. But he let it slide considering the more important matters at hand, focusing all his strength into blocking Noctis’ hits.

They continued on like this, with both battles reaching a stalemate because Ignis couldn’t kill the Naga by himself and Noctis showed no signs of calming down.

“We need to rethink our strategy!” said Ignis, and a muffled cry of agreement came from somewhere within the Naga's coils.

Hearing Ignis, Noctis withdrew his blade and pulled a thundaga flask from the armiger, focusing his aim on the Naga.

“Don’t!-“ Gladio shouted, but it was no use trying to get through to him. Noctis threw it anyway, Gladio and Ignis diving out of its path as lightning exploded in a brilliant flash. It hit the daemon, white prongs forking out towards the edges of the room and setting the hairs on everyone’s body on end.

Prompto screamed, convulsing violently against the Naga’s weakening grip, the sound drowned out by the shrill death cries of the daemon. The beast crashed to the floor and took Prompto with it, trapping him underneath it’s huge tail. Not that he would have been able to move anyway – he was totally incapacitated, reduced to a twitching mess as the residual electricity left his body.

Ignis got to his feet the moment the attack cleared, scanning the area urgently. Noctis was nowhere to be seen; he had scarpered, dashing deeper into the caves the moment he had an opening.

“He’s gone!” Ignis shouted, looking over to where Prompto lie in desperate need of a curative. Uncertainty momentarily crossed his mind as he tried to consider which action to take first - find Noctis or help Prompto. He shook the uncertainty away and ran out of the cavern, shouting back and apology to the others. They would understand; Noctis must always be their number one priority. He just hoped, prayed, that Gladio was unscathed enough to rush to Prompto’s aid.

 

* * *

 

  
Noctis hunched over, gasping as he caught his breath. He hoped he’d put enough distance between himself and danger, but now that he thought about it, he wasn’t entirely sure what this ‘danger’ was. There was a fight, he knew that much. It was fuzzy, but he remembered a fight, and a daemon, and electricity, and... His friends?

He smacked his head with the heel of his hand, once, twice, trying to correctly recall what had happened.

‘ _I... hit Prompto_ ,' he thought, dread and guilt hitting him like a tidal wave. Then he whacked himself again, hard.

‘' _No, no! Prompto isn’t here. No-one’s here._ ’ He looked around, confirming that it was true – he was alone.

‘ _But I wasn’t alone. I was... I was..._ ’  
-smack-  
‘ _the creature, it was the one from..._ ’  
-smack-  
' _No it wasn’t! It was just... just an ordinary daemon_ ’  
-smack-  
‘ _I hit the creature_ ’  
-smack-  
‘ _I hit the daemon_ ’  
-smack-  
‘ _The daemon had Prompto_ ’  
-smack smack smack-  
‘ _Oh Gods, I_ hit _Prompto!_ '

He wailed, a hopeless sound that echoed through the cave, full of pure confusion and genuine fear. Pain shot up his arm, sharp and sudden, distracting him from the dull thrumming in his head. He collapsed to the ground, burying his face into his knees and grinding his teeth as white-hot agony clouded his already muddled thoughts.

He clawed at the floor, uselessly scraping his hands along the sharp, rocky ground in attempt to hold something, to grip anything as he rode out the waves of intense pain.

' _Stupid_ ,' he mentally chastised himself for allowing Prompto to get hurt at his own hands. ' _stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid_ -'

A large shard of rock broke free, with a knife-like edge and a pointed end. Without thinking, he picked it up, seemingly oblivious to the way it cut into his hand, and aligned it with his forearm.

He plunged it in without even a hint of hesitation, twisting it, digging it deeper into his flesh. Like a man possessed, he continued to stab himself, despite the blood bubbling out from the wounds, despite the animalistic keens rising from low in his throat, and the awful pain each time his makeshift weapon made contact.

Autopilot took over as his mind zoned out. He drew the blade along the length of his arm, carving out the supple flesh as though he could dig out the source of the pain, somehow believing he could make it stop by wounding himself even further.

He momentarily whited out, everything becoming a hazy mess of broken thoughts and unrelenting agony. But even as he drifted, he continued assaulting his tattered limb, to punish himself for hurting Prompto and to stop the pain for good and to free himself from the creature who was grinding his arm up and-

His eyes widened at the memory, and he looked up to see the familiar faces that haunted his every waking moment - the grotesque, unnatural form of the hellspawn from the ruins. It was latched onto his hand, slowly making its way upwards, devouring his wrist and still hungry for more.

Screaming, he withdrew the shard from his arm and threw it at the monster with great force. It flew straight through the creature, which rippled unnaturally as the weapon clattered onto the ground.

Noctis screwed his eyes shut, shaking his head with extreme vigour, telling himself that it wasn’t happening, that he’s far away from that monster.

When he opened them again, the monster was gone. It was just him, alone, with blood pouring out at an alarming rate, pooling on the ground and staining his clothes a deep crimson.

Consumed by despair and pain and gut-wrenching fear, Noctis could do nothing but curl up and cry.

 

* * *

 

 

"Over here!” Prompto called, “I’ve found him, he’s... Guys! He’s bleeding!”

Ignis had summoned an elixir to his hand before he’d even reached Noctis, and Gods, did Noctis need it. There was so much blood, it was a job to see where the wound was located. But at least they knew he was still alive - his chest heaved and his body quivered as he noisily bawled; a sight that had become far too commonplace in recent days.

“Looks like a daemon got him before we did." Gladio cursed, saddened by the sight before him.

Ignis hummed suspiciously, not entirely convinced that that was the case once he’d spotted the deep lacerations that were the source of the bleeding. He wasted no time cracking the elixir over Noctis’ body, and for once, he didn’t recoil at the touch. Noctis didn’t even seem to notice their presence, and Ignis wondered if he was too far gone to be aware of his injuries too.

“The tomb is just around the corner from here, is it not?” Ignis sighed, recalling the directions the others had given him.

Prompto nodded. “Are we seriously continuing after all this?” he asked in disbelief.

“We still need to collect the weapon.” Ignis reminded him, “and we may as well do so while it’s within our reach. Let us put these caves behind us as soon as possible.”

Gladio scooped Noctis up into his arms, holding the younger man as he slumped against his body, slick blood seeping onto his clothes too. They took him to the tomb, Gladio setting him down and placing a hand against his back, keeping the prince upright as he stood before the ancient statue of one of his ancestors.

Noctis didn’t so much as flinch as the ancient king granted him his power. He was silent, unmoving, a vacant expression on his face and tear tracks running down his cheeks.

They left promptly afterwards, Ignis and Prompto taking either side of Noctis and guiding him back to the cave's entrance, Gladio leading the way with his weapon drawn in case they encountered any more daemons.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took me so long. I have no excuse, I'm just disorganized.
> 
> Next chapter is done though! Just gotta tweak a bit of dialogue, (because I honestly didn't intend to make Noctis hurt himself that much oops) so expect to see that uploaded much sooner ~
> 
> I don't know where this fits into canon tbh. Where are Iris + co.? Who knows! Why is the Naga in the wrong dungeon? Who knows! Should I stop nitpicking my own work? Probably! 
> 
> Thanks for reading <3


	4. Chapter 4

_Running. Legs aching, lungs burning, he’s running as though his life depends on it._

_His life_ does _depend on it, because if the daemonic entity chasing him catches up, he knows he’ll suffer a fate worse than death._

_He can’t see it, but he knows it’s there. It’s an endless pursuit of predator vs prey in a vast labyrinth where escape is near-on impossible._

_He runs through winding corridors, some barely wide enough to fit through. His arms are covered in scrapes from the cold stone walls, and his legs are grazed from the amount of times he’s stumbled and fell._

_He dares to look back, and wishes he hadn’t. A large cloud of darkness is trailing him, engulfing everything in its path. It’s still quite a distance away, but not far enough. If he stops for even a second, it’ll envelop him too._

_But that’s not what scares him most. The pure, gut-wrenching fear comes from the two glimmering eyes at the front of the cloud, locked onto their target and full of bloodlust._

_So he keeps going, faster and faster, terror fuelling him as he ignores the protests from his weary body._

_Until he hits a wall._

_He frantically looks around. There’s nowhere to go. Walls surround three sides of him, and the fourth is blocked by the ever approaching darkness._

_“No!” he cries, a helpless cry of defeat. He slowly sinks to the ground, and all he can do is watch as mangled hands reach out to him from within the dark mass. It’s eyes shine with taunting, victorious glee as it gets closer and closer and closer and closer._

 

* * *

 

  
As always, Noctis woke up screaming. Disorientated, he thrashed around beneath the covers, desperate to escape their suffocating grasp. Ignis was by his side within seconds, pulling the duvet away and sitting Noctis up, wrapping his arms around the Prince in a tight, restraining hug and uttering soothing words in his ear.

This time, it didn’t take long to calm Noctis down. The first time it had happened, however, was a different story. Noctis had been an inconsolable mess, screaming to high heavens as all three of them had to pin him down lest he hurt himself in his panicked delirium.

But as the days went by and the nightmares became more and more regular, Ignis had gotten calming Noctis down to a fine art. It definitely wasn’t a routine that he wanted to be accustomed with, but he was thankful that it was effective. He gently ran his fingers through Noctis’ hair, holding him until the screams died down and his body went lax.

They stayed like that for quite a while, and Ignis wondered if Noctis had fallen back asleep. But a hoarse voice, muffled by Ignis' shoulder, asked “Where’s Prompto?”

“He’s gone shopping with Gladiolus. We’re running low on curatives after the incident in the caves.” He felt Noctis tense, and added “Prompto is okay, don’t worry. As are you.”

Noctis nodded, and said no more. He’d have to apologize to Prompto later, even though he felt an apology wouldn’t be anywhere near enough. He had no idea where to begin saying sorry for screwing up so badly and losing his mind, and hurting his best friend like that.

“It’s mid-afternoon but I didn’t wish to wake you” Ignis informed him. “You seemed so peaceful this morning. How unfortunate that even your dreams are tormenting you.”

It frustrated Ignis that there was nothing he could truly do to help him – not without knowing what was playing on his mind so intensely in the first place. He looked at the clock; Prompto and Gladio weren’t due back for another few hours yet. If ever there was a time to try and coax the story out of Noctis, now would be it. He didn’t want to pry, and he felt awful for intruding on something so clearly traumatic, but he knew it was for the best.

“Please, Noctis. Confide in me. You haven’t been the same since...” He trailed off, not wanting to mention the damned place in case it set him off again.

For once, Ignis felt totally out of his depth. It was such a difficult topic and trying to get Noctis to talk about it felt as though walking across a tightrope that could snap at any given moment. He took a deep breath and continued walking the thin line, this time trying a different approach.

“Is Carbuncle no longer keeping your nightmares at bay?”

Wrong thing to say, Ignis noted, as Noctis' already irregular breathing hitched at the mention of his childhood spirit friend. He considered dropping the subject; the last thing he wanted was to cause Noctis any more distress. But, even if it was painful to talk about, he needed Noctis to open up.

Carefully, he continued, “Do... You still have Carbuncle?”

Noctis' eyes widened, hit with the memory of his precious statuette now nothing more than shattered fragments. He shook his head, tried to say that he was gone, but all that came out was a series of frantic sobs.

“Jacket p-pocket.” He managed to stutter, a shaky hand pointing towards the garment hanging lopsidedly over a chair nearby.

Ignis stood up and went to look, rummaging through many empty pockets until he found something far too small to be what he was searching for.

“Oh.” He uttered, unable to think of a suitable response. In his hand was a small shard, just useless shrapnel to anyone who didn’t know what they were looking at. But Ignis knew it was the ear of a very important and powerful item.

Silence settled between them as Ignis slipped the broken piece into his own pocket for safekeeping.

“How did this happen?”

Noctis opened his mouth, then closed it again. He paused, as though thinking, and then shook his head, hand subconsciously cradling his arm. It was wrapped in clean, white bandages – something that Noctis had only just noticed.

“Perhaps a different question. Is your arm ailing you?” Ignis asked, and unsurprisingly received no reply.

“Forgive me if I’m speaking out of place” he said, “but I have a presumption than I feel needs to be addressed. Those wounds, they were self-inflicted, correct?”

The look of shame that flickered across Noctis’ face confirmed Ignis' concerns far better than words ever could.

“Why did you do that to yourself?” he asked, sadness evident in his tone.

Noctis wanted so desperately to tell him – to share his worries and confusion and fears, but there was always the nagging doubt in the front of his mind that he was still trapped in another one of the creature’s illusions. He didn’t want to let his guard down; for all he knew, the monster was just waiting for yet another chance to strike.

Suspiciously, he took in the appearance of the 'Ignis' before him. Unlike the slightly fuzzy look of the fakes he’d been shown before, this Ignis had sharp, well defined features, and perhaps most importantly, his eyes were soft and full of concern – nothing like those of the monster. Perhaps it was safe, after all.

“It ate my arm.” He blurted out, an unexpected burst of confidence returning to him. “It ate my arm.” he repeated, quieter and uneasy.

Perplexed, Ignis asked him to elaborate. “Noctis, I’m afraid you’ve lost me. Both of your arms are still attached to your body.” He placed a comforting hand on the Prince’s shoulder, offering him a warm smile that was somewhat tinged with sorrow. “Please, start from the beginning.”

And surprisingly, Noctis did. Much akin to a dam bursting it’s walls, all of his withheld experiences came flooding out. He didn’t intend to let that happen, but once he’d started, he couldn’t seem to stop.

He was incoherent at first, speech all over the place - Ignis found it very difficult to follow. But as Noctis became more comfortable talking, he began to explain the long series of elaborate puzzles that served as nothing more than an entrance to the dungeon.

“I told you about this part before my phone cut out.” Noctis said, “But... I didn’t tell you about the creature that was watching me. I didn’t think it was dangerous at the time.” He shuddered, thinking about how wrong he had been.

“This is all new information to me, I don’t recall a phone conversation.” Ignis replied, “We had no contact with you at all for the entire time you were there. We tried ringing you a few hours after we parted, but to no avail.”

Noctis' blood ran cold. “No, no! Don’t say that! We spoke, y-you told me the place was called Pitioss? Heck, I even sent a picture to Prompto’s phone!”

Ignis shook his head; this definitely hadn’t happened. “Do you still have the picture?”

Noctis fumbled for his phone on the bedside table, hands trembling too much to pick it up. Seeing this, Ignis helped, steadying Noctis’ hand until he managed to hold it.

“Allow me.” He said, watching the difficulty Noctis was having selecting the correct app. He took the device and opened the gallery, pressing the last picture he took.

It was nothing but static, a totally illegible mess of grey and white.

“Is this the photo you too-“ Ignis stopped when he saw the colour drain from Noctis’ face, pure fear etched into his features. Noctis could see it, plain as day, the creature’s horrific nightmare face smack-bang in the middle of the screen.

He shrieked, snatching the phone from Ignis and throwing it across the room, denting the cheap hotel drywall. Something they’d no doubt have to pay for, but Ignis had more pressing things to think about – namely Noctis, who was violently hyperventilating.

' _Not again_ ’, Ignis thought, resorting back to the comforting routine he used for Noctis’ nightmares. He thought they were finally getting somewhere, only to come right back to square one.

“Come now, Noct. Deep breaths.” He soothed, placing a firm, grounding hand against his back.

“Do you wish to continue?” Ignis asked once he’d calmed down a considerable amount, deciding it wasn’t worth pushing for anymore details – not if it was causing Noctis such great distress.

Noctis ran his fingers through his hair, sighing deeply. “Sure. Gonna have to talk about it at some point anyway, may as well be now.”

“Very well. May I ask why you reacted like that?”

Noctis was dumbfounded. “You’re kidding, right? Didn’t you see that thing?”

“I’m afraid I did not. The image was blank.”

“Gods, this- this is a mess!” Noctis stammered, and almost considered withdrawing himself again. But Ignis gently encouraged him to continue, so he described the monster from the picture, the very being who had been mercilessly haunting him for the past few weeks, and the fear and constant doubt that he was safe. He told Ignis how he had no choice but to continue through the dungeon, despite the creature's unnerving gaze trailing his every move.

“And you’ve been seeing this monster ever since.” Ignis realized, and everything made sense. The wary looks, the skittish movements, the way Noctis would jump at sudden noises, the crazed frenzy back in the cavern – now he knew why. “But I can assure you, there is absolutely nothing here. You’ve been through a great ordeal and it’s only natural your mind would play tricks on you.”

Noctis knew that, logically, Ignis was right. But his gut instinct told him otherwise, and the majority of him firmly believed that the creature was still on the prowl.

“Did this ‘monster' ever approach you?”

Noctis laughed, broken and bitter and uneasy, and nothing could have prepared Ignis for what he was about to hear. Noctis explained everything. The first time he properly saw the monster and the feeling of hopelessness and dread it gave him. The many souls that made up it’s grotesque body, all calling out for him to join them whilst simultaneously not saying a word. The way it used the faces of his loved ones, both dead and alive, to get to him, forcing a sick hallucinogenic down his throat and destroying his sanity piece by piece.

He told Ignis about falling, down and down into the depths of Eos, only to find himself jolted back to where he fell from with his injuries healed and a reeling sense of disorientation. About the red-hot spikes that would be often waiting for him at the bottom, and the time he landed awkwardly, causing the hot metal to impale his side, searing it to his flesh and leaving him helplessly dangling within the monster’s grasp.

“I died multiple times, I’m sure of it. I don’t know what kind of magic brought me back, but it felt so wrong.” He said, and Ignis didn’t know how to respond. It was all so horrific, so stomach churning, and Noctis had hardly scratched the surface.

He spoke about how he survived on nothing but weakened potions and pure adrenaline. The fatigue, both mental and physical, as he kept pressing on because he couldn’t rest or the monster would surely eat him, and his soul would undoubtedly be trapped forever with that thing if he allowed it to happen.

“You lose track of time when you’re stuck in hell. I know I was there for days, but I dunno how many.”

That was odd, Ignis thought. He didn’t doubt that a long period of time had passed for Noctis – there’s no way this could all have happened overnight. But he had entered the dungeon at sundown and emerged the following morning, which certainly didn’t add up. Not wanting to concern Noctis anymore, Ignis kept this to himself, deciding it really wasn’t important in the grand scheme of things.

Noctis carried on, telling the sickening tale of his arm being devoured by the ravenous beast, about feeling it slowly grinding his bones up with its unnaturally sharp teeth, ripping his flesh to shreds while all he could do was scream in agony. How his only escape was to sever the limb, cutting through muscle and nerves, assailing the bone until he could rip it free from the rest of his body.

“It still hurts.” Noctis whispered, voice distant as tears formed in his eyes. “I can feel it, even now. It aches all the time, and it absolutely kills whenever I get all freaked out. It’s kinda like... Like there’s something crawling underneath my skin – like it will stop if I can just dig it out.”

This, _this_ , was what horrified Ignis the most. Not only had Noctis been driven to remove his own arm, but he had also been so deeply traumatized by the ordeal that he was plagued with psychosomatic pains so intense, that the only way he could even attempt to deal with it was to hurt himself even more.

When Noctis added how he had ‘reset’ by placing his weapon below his chin and skewering himself through the head, Ignis was seeing red. Anger bubbled within him, partly at the creature that put him through so much, but mostly at himself and Prompto and Gladiolus, who allowed him to enter the dungeon alone in the first place.

“I’m… truly sorry, Noctis.” he said, wrapping his arms around Noctis protectively. “I– we’ll never let anything like this happen to you again, I promise.”

It was then that Noctis allowed the tears to fall freely. They were quiet, gentle; tears of incomprehensible sorrow mixed with overwhelming relief. Burying his face into Ignis' chest, he let himself cry. His problems hadn’t been solved, far from it, but sharing his burdens had lifted a great weight from his shoulders.

By the time Noctis had finished crying, he was thoroughly exhausted. But he continued the final part of his story, about how seeing Eos herself, still fighting despite everything, gave him that final push of motivation to escape when all else seemed lost.

“And, I think that’s everything.” He said, wracking his brain for anything important that he’d missed.

“If I may, I have one final question.” Ignis said, waiting for Noctis' confirmation that it was okay to ask. “I’m still unsure about what happened to Carbuncle.”

“Oh, right. Honestly, I’m not totally sure either. After I... Y'know...” he gestured to his chin, making a stabbing motion with his hand. “Things got a little fuzzy. When I came round, he was in pieces.” He looked thoughtful, remembering the ruby light dancing around him when he returned to the world of the living. “I think... I think the little guy might have saved me.”

Both men offered a silent 'thank you' to the small spirit, and then Noctis yawned as tiredness crashed over him. He hadn’t spoken this much for a long time, and such a heavy conversation had taken a lot out of him.

“Get some more sleep.” Ignis told him, and it would have almost been funny under different circumstances since he usually chastised Noctis for sleeping in the day. Noctis definitely wasn’t going to argue though, and he settled back down underneath the covers, pulling them up to his chin.

“Thank you for talking to me.” Ignis whispered, quiet and sincere. “Rest easy; we won’t allow any more harm to befall you.”

Noctis offered a sleepy hum of acknowledgement as he drifted off into the first restful sleep he’d had in days.

 

* * *

 

 

Ignis was so lost in thought, he almost didn’t notice when the others returned from their shopping trip.

“How is he?” Gladio asked, noticing Noctis was still asleep. “He been out cold all day?”

“Not quite.” Ignis said, standing up from his place on the sofa to help Prompto unpack the shopping. “We... Had a chat earlier.”

Both men stopped, picking up instantly on the way Ignis' voice cracked on that last word. It was subtle, almost unnoticeable, but very much uncharacteristic for such a usually composed person.

“It seems that we've made a grievous error.”

Prompto set the shopping down on the floor and gave Ignis his full attention, leading him back to the sofa and sitting down next to him. Gladio followed suit, perching on the armrest and looking at Ignis expectantly.

Taking a deep breath, Ignis began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyyy things are finally looking up! Its all uphill from here ~ absolutely nothing else bad is gonna happen to him again in this fic, no way! This definitely isn't a lie ;3c
> 
> Thanks for reading <3


	5. Chapter 5

Although nobody said so, Noctis could tell that Ignis had spoken to the others while he slept. He could see the pity in their expressions, and he hated it. It made him feel embarrassed, like he was a child that needed mollycoddling, and part of him regretted pouring his heart out the evening before.

For this reason, he chose not to acknowledge anyone, instead heading straight for the balcony and sitting outside in the refreshing morning air. Some small birds were jumping along the railings, and he watched them chirping away as though they didn’t have a care in the world. He envied them; to live a life so simple would truly be a blessing. But fate wasn’t like that, not his anyway. He had the burdens of the world on his shoulders, and even without adding his recent trauma, he had a monumental amount of responsibility to uphold. None of these were things he wanted to think about, he was having more than enough difficulty just getting through each day.

“You’ve had a tough time, huh?” Gladio said, pulling up a chair and joining Noctis on the balcony. The little birds flew away, leaving Noctis staring at the space that they once occupied.

“Sorry.” Noctis whispered, and he meant it. He hated being so unpredictable, and he hated how his mental state was causing his friends to suffer too.

“What’re you apologizing for? I should be the one saying that. Some kind of shield I am, leaving you to fend for yourself somewhere so dangerous.”

Noctis sighed, heavy and awkward. “The caves. I attacked you.”

Gladio looked at Noctis in bewilderment. “That’s what’s bothering you? Don’t sweat it, a scrawny body like yours couldn’t land a hit on me anyway.”

Noctis snorted, and Gladio noticed a brief spark of something. It was competitive, defiant, and determined to prove a point. He jumped on it, egging Noctis on, trying to stoke that slight flicker into the flame of his former self.

“How about a rematch?” Gladio asked. He knew that, once upon a time, Noctis would never turn down the opportunity to try and prove he was the better of the two, and he could tell that even now Noctis was considering it.

But in the end, Noctis shook his head. “Not today.” he said, slumping further into his chair. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. In fact, it was quite the opposite. A slice of simpler times when the pair would spar on a daily basis – that little bit of normality sounded more than appealing. But his own instability scared him, and he didn’t want to find himself lashing out again.

“Besides,” Noctis said, “My arm is still healing.” He absentmindedly picked at the bandages as he tried to outwardly justify his refusal.

“You really think we'd leave you without a potion? Your arm's fine.”

“Then why-“

“That was my doing.” Ignis interjected, joining the conversation from where he sat indoors. “If your instinctive reaction to stress is to cause yourself harm, I hoped that the bandages would provide a sufficient layer of protection until one of us can get to you.”

It made sense, Noctis supposed. He figured that they wouldn’t leave him on his own for a while, not after his latest episode, so the light gauze would be more than enough to prevent any imminent damage before they could stop him. That said, he sincerely hoped it wouldn’t come to that again.

Gladio gently pushed the matter, “C’mon, it’ll do you good.”

“I believe Gladio is right.” Ignis agreed. “And this time, we will all be on hand should anything go awry.” They didn’t push the matter after that, leaving the choice over to Noctis.

After a moment’s thought, Noctis made his decision. Sure, he was scared. He was scared of both himself and the world around him, and he honestly wasn’t sure how well he would fare. But he trusted in his friends, and he knew they had his back. Now that he’d shared his experiences, they were more aware of what would trigger another meltdown, and have a better understanding of how to help him.

“Okay, let’s do it.” He shrugged, hoping his blasé answer had kept his doubts concealed.

 

* * *

 

 

Later that morning, they set up camp at a haven just outside of Lestallum. Ignis had purchased some ingredients in town and Prompto brought his camera along, they intended to make the most of the day. Recent times had been hard on them all, and some rest and relaxation was just what everyone needed.

Gladio and Noctis left them to their hobbies, heading to the flat, grassy area just outside the campsite. They were close enough should they need assistance, but there was no danger of getting in Ignis’ way. He took his cooking very seriously, and his wrath was something neither of them wanted to face.

“You ready?” Gladio asked, and Noctis nodded. They summoned their old training swords, a wooden variant of their respective weapons, deciding they would be far safer to use for the time being. Gladio let Noctis move first, blocking his hit with ease. It was weak, as though Noctis was testing the waters, but he attacked again, then again, aiming for Gladio's midsection and getting blocked each time.

“You can do better than that. Put some force into it!” Gladio taunted, though he suspected that Noctis was holding back intentionally. Gently, he reassured him that it was okay.

Noctis closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. ' _It's okay._ ’ He repeated to himself, pushing aside any uncertainties. Then he looked up at Gladio with fiery resolve and lunged towards him.

“Now that’s more like it!” Gladio said, stopping another blow. He took this opportunity to retaliate, swinging his sword and lightly hitting Noctis' leg, causing him to startle at the unexpected contact.

Gladio lowered his weapon upon seeing the way Noctis had flinched. “Don’t push yourself, we can stop if you wa-“

A swift strike and Gladio to staggered backwards. Noctis’ blade was angled just above his chest, the dulled tip aiming straight for his heart, and he was grinning the biggest, smuggest, most irksome grin that Gladio had ever seen. It made him glad to see this side of Noctis again, but he simultaneously wanted to punch the Prince’s lights out there and then.

“Cheap move.” He tutted as he pushed the blade to the side, getting into a fighting stance and going in for the next round.

They fought valiantly, the dull clunk of wood filling the air as attacks were blocked – both were determined not to let the other get the most hits in. But as the morning went by, they lost tabs on who was winning. It was becoming less of a fight and more of an outlet for their emotions, and the tensions in the air could be felt shifting with each passing minute.

Their moves lost all seriousness by the end, weapons being brushed aside in favour of jabs and pokes. Noctis stuck his leg out, sending Gladio crashing to the floor, and Gladio grabbed Noctis’ ankle - he wasn’t willing to go down alone.

They stayed on the ground after that, Gladio laying on the grass and Noctis sprawled haphazardly on top of him. Both were exhausted, but they were happy, happier than they’d been in a long time.

“You did good, Noct.” Gladio ruffled his hair, and they settled into a comfortable silence, preoccupied with their own mellow thoughts.

As Noctis watched the clouds drifting through the sky, listening to Gladio's slowing heartbeat, it finally hit home – this was real. Contentedly, he focused on everything around him; the delightful smells of Ignis' cooking, the soft grass beneath his fingertips, the slightly sweaty musk that Gladio was emitting. Noctis thought that part was pretty gross, but that didn’t matter because it was gross and _real_.

“You should talk to him.” Gladio said, voicing the thoughts that were going through his own head. If the conversation they’d had that morning was anything to go by, Noctis was undoubtedly fretting over the incident in the caves. He sat up, carefully pushing Noctis off of him and stretching. They watched Prompto; he had his back to them, chatting away to Ignis like his usual bubbly self.

“He ain’t mad at you.” Gladio assured, standing up and offering a hand to Noctis. “I don’t think that kid’s even capable of being mad.”

Noctis accepted his hand, pulling himself to his feet. “Yeah, I know.” He said. “That’s the problem - he’s far too quick to forgive my screw ups.”

“Of course he is. That’s what friends do, you idiot.” He kept hold of Noctis, practically dragging him back to the campsite. “C’mon, you two are gonna have a chat over lunch.”

Noctis found it amusing that even when Gladio was helping, it sounded remarkably like a threat. And although he was more than grateful for everything Gladio had done for him, he still dug his heels into the ground, making himself a lot harder to move.

“You brat.” Gladio smirked, picking Noctis up and throwing him over his shoulder. “Nothing’s ever easy with you, is it?”

Noctis laughed, shouting at Gladio to put him down. He only complied once they’d reached the haven, but not before Prompto had snapped a picture of a very indignant prince and a his rather smug-looking shield.

 

* * *

 

 

Despite the subtle prompts and unimpressed glances from Gladio, Noctis didn’t speak to Prompto over lunch. It took some coaxing from Ignis, suggesting the pair went down to the lake for some fishing and photography; an activity they had spent countless afternoons on.

It was awkward at first. Noctis tried to act like nothing had happened, but his heart wasn’t quite in it, and Prompto, like always, was really trying his best to keep spirits up.

“Wow! This place is beautiful.” He said, snapping some pictures. “The water is so clear, you can see the fish swimming around! Hey, why don’t you try and catch that one?” he pointed to a fish that was significantly larger than the others.

“Sure.” Noctis cast his line, and they watched as the surrounding fish initially scattered, then suspiciously investigated the lure. He got a bite pretty quickly, not from the one he was aiming for but from a far bigger, more confident fish that had emerged from deep below the waters.

“Woah, looks like you caught a monster!” Prompto exclaimed, and then covered his mouth with his hand when he saw Noctis tense. The fish took the bait and returned to the depths, leaving a slightly distant Noctis idly holding the fishing rod.

“That was a bad word to use.” Prompto sheepishly acknowledged, “Sorry, I should have thought before I spoke.”

“Yes- no, I- Prom... Oh God, I’m so sorry.” Noctis stammered, dropping the rod and burying his face into his hands.

His pulse quickened and tears formed in his eyes, and Noctis _hated_ himself. Just a few hours ago, he had been absolutely fine – more than fine, he had been happy and optimistic and finally feeling like he was getting somewhere. Crying felt like he was right back at step one again. It had been a word, just one idle, harmless word, and yet he was teetering on the edge of another breakdown because of it.

Prompto wrapped his arms around Noctis, and Noctis grounded himself just as he had done this morning, focusing on the weighted feeling Prompto was providing and the gentle breeze in the air, and the occasional water splashes from the fish living within. He scrubbed at his eyes, refusing to cry again, and realised Prompto was talking to him.

“-and that was the worst thing I could have said, I know, but please don’t cry! I’ve got you, I’m here it’s okay. It’s okay, it’s okay!”

“Prom, you’ve done nothing wrong.” Noctis said, voice wavering. “You’ve always been here for me, and I- I hurt you.”

“Wha-? Oh, the Naga! Is that why you’ve been avoiding me? It was nothing potions couldn’t fix, I know you’d never do it on purpose.”

Noctis nodded, and suddenly he felt even worse. “I don’t deserve you.” He said. “I distanced myself and you didn’t even know why, and you’re still trying to make me feel better.”

“Dude, you’re the _Prince_! Surely I'm the one who doesn’t deserve you!” Prompto said “And anyway, I just assumed it was, I dunno... Trauma stuff?”

Noctis raised his eyebrows. “Trauma stuff, is that the professional term for it nowadays?”

Prompto pouted. “Hey, I dunno what it’s called! I’m not a walking dictionary like Ignis.” He straightened his back and mocked Ignis' accent “ _Can’t spell funambulism without 'fun'_. What does that even mean, Noct? I’ve been wondering for weeks now.”

“You sounded just like him!” Noctis snorted, and Prompto was strangely proud of himself. They laughed for long time, the contagious kind of laughter that never seems to end, the kind that left their chests aching and their hearts full.

“Whoever decided that laughter is the best medicine was so right.” Noctis said between giggles. And it was true, because they both felt upbeat and refreshed afterwards. They went back to their activities in high spirits, this time talking and joking as they did, enjoying their afternoon until the sun began to set.

By the end of the day, they sat back to back on a small dock, legs overhanging each end of the platform as they watched the sky turn a beautiful shade of orange. It was serene, a beautiful moment that reminded Noctis of days gone by.

“Hey buddy, I want you to have this.” Prompto said, digging an old digital camera out of his pocket. Noctis swivelled round to face Prompto and looked at it quizzically. “Iggy said you’re not sure what’s real and what’s not, so if you’re ever feeling confused, snap a pic! We can look at it together and I can talk you through what’s in the photo.”

He gingerly took it, his expression unreadable, and Prompto wondered if he’d done something wrong. He wasn’t sure what reaction he had expected, but it certainly wasn’t that one. Then he recalled what else Ignis had told him, about how Noctis had opened a picture from inside the dungeon and freaked out upon viewing it.

“Oh- Oh no!” he quickly apologized, “You, uh, don’t have to though, it’s fine! Here, I’ll take it back.”

Prompto tried to take the camera, but Noctis held it tight in his hands. He remembered the item well; Prompto had saved for months to buy it, back when they were in high school. It wasn’t the flashiest of cameras, but it was compact and robust, and Prompto had spent days gushing over how amazing the picture quality was. Noctis offered to buy it for him but he wouldn’t accept it, insisting he’d feel uncomfortable with such a lavish gift. Of course, it couldn’t compare to some of the cameras Prompto had purchased since being on a Crownsguard wage, but it brought back fond memories and had a tonne of sentimental value.

“Thank you.” Noctis smiled, wobbly yet genuine, and he scooted closer to Prompto to give him a hug. It threw Prompto off guard, but he soon returned the embrace, thinking that, just maybe, things would be okay after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooo boy this chapter was a challenge! Writing the softer moments really isn't my forte, and the way I envisioned it was far more tender than I could put into words. But I tried my best! I feel that moments like this are very important for Noct's recovery ~
> 
> I'm gonna be participating in Noct Whump Week, because hurting poor Noctis seems to be a hobby of mine. I'd like to say it means updates here will be slow but uhhh,,,, I don't exactly have a regular update schedule anyway,,,,, I'm getting there, I promise! :')
> 
> Thanks for reading <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUESS WHO'S BACK?
> 
> It’s been months oh my God. Thank you all so much for bearing with me, and supporting a seemingly abandoned fic. I promise though, I ain’t abandoning this, ever! I’m determined to get it finished, even if I’m not the fastest author out there :') 
> 
> But yes, back to Noctis’ totally smooth, no setbacks, everything-is-now-totally-okay recovery!

Noctis and Prompto stayed at the dock for far longer than they intended to. Ignis had hoped they would all be back in the hotel by sundown, but when he saw how high Noctis' spirits were, he couldn’t bring himself to conclude the day. It was nice to see his charge looking so carefree for once, and the happiness it brought Ignis shone bright enough to assure him that the worst was over.

He approached Noctis with a proposal. “How do you think you would fare if we set up camp at the haven for tonight?”

Noctis thought it over. If it had been suggested it a few weeks earlier, he knew he wouldn’t have coped. The cold chill of night, the uncomfortable stone ground, the sporadic calls of nearby wildlife; all would undoubtedly keep him far too on edge to sleep.

But things were different now. His friends had proven they’re the real deal, and he was slowly, _slowly_ , starting to believe what Ignis had said – the monster couldn’t hurt him anymore, it was all in his head.

“Yeah, sure.” Noctis smiled, and turned his attention back to fishing.

It was dusk when the pair finally arrived at the haven. Gladio had almost finished setting the tent up, and Ignis was preparing their evening meal.

“Ah, you’ve returned.” Ignis said.

“Iggy was starting to get worried, was gonna come and find you.” Gladio said from within the tent, “I told him to stop worrying and give you kids some independence.”

Gladio was laughing to himself, but it was short lived when Ignis walked over and pulled a tent peg from the ground. He heard Gladio's disgruntled shout loud and clear, but it didn’t stop him from pulling a second peg so the half he was sitting in collapsed.

“What the hell-“ Gladio pushed the fabric aside and emerged, glowering at an annoyingly cocky Ignis.

Noctis rolled his eyes. “Get a room.”

“We’d have a room if _somebody_ hadn’t done that.” Gladio pointed to his ruined work.

“Gross!” Prompto stuck his tongue out in disgust. “A room we don’t all have to share, please.”

“Enough.” Ignis chided. “Dinner is ready. Gladio, you can repair the tent afterwards.”

Gladio threw his arms in the air dramatically. “If you think I’m gonna be the one fixing it, you are so wrong.”

After a lot of sassy bickering as they ate, they reached a compromise; they would fix one peg each. Prompto was sure to take several pictures, and their expressions in each made for golden blackmail should he ever need it.

When their sleeping arrangements had finally been set up, they all played a few rounds of triple triad around the campfire. They hadn’t enjoyed a card game as a group for a long time, and it did wonders for morale.

They retired to bed shortly after their fifth game, and Noctis had no problems falling into a dreamless sleep. However, he didn’t stay asleep; he didn’t know what woke him, but halfway through the night he found himself in dire need of some fresh air. Sneaking past his friends, he headed outside and sat himself on the edge of the haven, legs dangling over the front.

It was peaceful, nobody around but him and the wildlife. Animals and daemons alike wandered the plains, illuminated only by the bright moon and many stars that decorated the sky.

He’d spent a lot of time just watching the world go by recently. Ever since leaving that dungeon, he found himself noticing the little things. Something about it was calming, grounding; it all helped when your grasp on reality was slipping away. Even now, when he was feeling tranquil and in his right mind, the little things brought him great solace.

There was a herd of spiracorns grazing to his left, the taller ones pulling leaves down and passing them to the young. Slightly right of them was a pack of coeurls, bundled together for warmth and safety as they slept. An iron giant patrolled in the distance, surrounded by a group of mischievous imps who had their eye on a single anak several feet away from them.

They ambushed the unaware creature; a sadistic act of violence purely for the entertainment of the daemons. It let out an anguished cry as they mercilessly ripped it to shreds. Yet, only a short distance away, the spiracorns continued grazing without a care in the world, totally indifferent to what was happening to the poor animal.

It filled Noctis with a strange melancholy as he realised that it doesn’t matter how dire your situation is, the world will still continue as normal, unaware of the struggles you’re going through. The anak was over there, fighting a losing fight for its life, and Noctis empathised deeply with it; the fear it was experiencing was all too familiar to him. The only difference between the two was that he had survived, and the anak was as good as dead.

He had to look away as the creature finally hit the ground. That could very easily have been Noctis’ fate, and the thought sent a shiver down his spine. He closed his eyes, rubbed them hard with the heel of his hands, and opened them to see Ignis standing besides him.

“It’s late,” Ignis pointed out, sitting down next to Noctis. “Is everything alright?” He carefully watched Noctis’ body language for any signs of distress, but he thankfully seemed at ease. 

“Yeah, I’m good. Just thinking.”

“I see. A Gil for your thoughts?”

Noctis chewed his lip, frowning. He was thinking so many things, and he had no idea how to put them into words.

“I just- there are so much unexplained stuff out there. I can’t wrap my head around it, no matter how much I try.” They both knew what he was referring to, but neither specifically said it.

“If you were to try and understand every phenomenon, you may just drive yourself mad.”

“It might be too late for that.” Noctis said. “You’re right, though.”

He stood up with a stretch, and Ignis followed suit, brushing dust from the back of his trousers.  
“I’m done thinking anyway, I’m tired.” Noctis yawned. “Coming back inside?”

Ignis suspected there was something being left unsaid, but he didn’t mention it. “If you’re sure.” He said, and followed Noctis back to their sleeping bags. They bid each other goodnight and fell silent, but Noctis stayed awake; there was still something playing on his mind.

“Hey, Ignis?” Noctis whispered.

“Yes?”

“Do our struggles even mean anything in the grand scheme of things?”

There was a pause. “They mean that we’re alive, they’re proof that we’ve lived.”

Noctis hummed thoughtfully as he drifted off to sleep again.

 

* * *

 

They had their belongings packed by noon the next day, and decided to take the scenic route back to the Regalia. Not only was it a beautiful afternoon, but there were plenty of critters in that area that were frequently on the hunt lists. The extra money would come in useful, so they all agreed to look out for any valuable hunts as they walked.

For the majority of the journey they only saw garula, but as they got closer to their destination, Prompto spotted some seadevils by the cliff.

“Shall we take 'em?” he asked, eagerly grabbing his gun.

Ignis considered their chances and found it to be quite favourable; they were slightly outnumbered, but they had the advantage of a sneak attack, as well as experience fighting this particular animal.

“Very well.” He agreed, pulling everyone close and discussing strategy. “We shall take them by surprise, slay as many as we can while they’re disorientated, and finish off the rest as a group. Stick together as best we can, alright?”

Everyone nodded and started their attack. They managed to take three out before the remaining seadevils gathered their bearings, leaving another three to go. Each one was riled up, but one in particular seemed intent on targeting Noctis alone. It assaulted him with aggressive attacks, all easily evaded, but the more he dodged the further away he ended up from his friends.

Noctis ended up quite far separated, but that didn’t matter; there was only one, and he could handle it no problem on his own. He readied his blade, preparing to take a swing, but the creature had completely stopped attacking him. It just stood there, watching, as though waiting for something. Unwilling to find out what, Noctis charged, plunging the blade right into its shoulder. The seadevil didn’t even flinch, it just continued staring him down.

Something wasn’t right.

Noctis called back his blade and watched in horror as blood spurted from the wound it left. Except it wasn’t blood as such – this creature was bleeding a black, goopy liquid, tinted with a slight glimmer. It gushed down its front legs, pooling on the floor and flowing towards Noctis.

He jumped back with a shriek, throwing his weapon aside and pulling his camera from his pocket.

“This shouldn’t be happening!” he told himself, as his shaky fingers fumbled with the on button. “This shouldn’t be happening, this can’t be happening!”

The screen on the camera flashed to life, and Noctis ripped the lens cap off with urgency. He snapped several pictures of the ground - of the sludge slowly approaching him - then held it up to where the seadevil stood.

It was barely recognisable now, coated entirely with the tar-like substance. But Noctis could still see it writhing beneath the cover; its body stretched and slimmed, and several new limbs protruded from its side. The long, powerful snout shrunk, contorting into something human but also not. Its teeth became more needle-like, which glimmered proudly, highlighted by the sludge running down its face.

Noctis tried to run, to shout for help, but he found he was rooted to the spot with fear. All he could do was snapsnapsnapsnap photographs and pray the others noticed what was happening and came to his aid.

They didn’t notice, and Noctis wasn’t sure how they couldn’t, because it was giggling that shrill, ear-splitting laugh that made his blood run cold. Maybe it really was all in his imagination? He dismissed the idea; there was no point even trying to reassure himself with that, not when the monster stood right before him, clear as day.

Now fully formed, it shook itself much akin to a dog, dispelling the sludge and revealing itself in all its grotesque glory. Noctis' fight or flight instincts finally kicked in and he turned to run, but the monster had other ideas. It leapt towards him, claws outstretched, a decaying arm reaching out to grab his leg.

Noctis fell onto his front, dropping the camera and twisting himself round. He kicked the monster but it held tight, digging it’s claws further into his lower leg. With a cry, he called a dagger from the armiger and stabbed it into the creature’s wrist. It reflexively let him go, and he scrabbled backwards, as far away as he could get while it was distracted.

He was so caught up in his fear that he didn’t notice how rapidly he was approaching the steep cliff edge until it was too late. His stomach dropped when his hand landed on nothing, throwing his balance off completely as it sent him tumbling down. A rock smashed into his head, the force propelling him too far away to grasp anything but air.

He was falling. Again. An eerie calmness washed over him; this had happened before, everything was fine. He’d fall and fall and fall, and then reset the moment he hit the ground, his most recent wounds healed and no harm done. Everything was fine; hopefully the monster would be gone by the time he came back, and he could continue his search for the exit, return to his friends and see daylight again.

Everything was fine.

He grit his teeth and waited for impact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops looks like I lied :3c
> 
> I seem to be writing an awful lot of sassy sexual tension between Ignis and Gladio in this fic haha. I feel like it’s getting a tiny bit OOC of them but I’m finding it hilarious to write :') 
> 
> Thanks for reading <3


End file.
